


The Next Night

by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash), UltimateFandomTrash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, It's hard to explain, Lucifer's not really a character, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Touching, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam's having a fucked up nightmare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 05:00:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19660327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/UltimateFandomTrash
Summary: Sam has nightmares after the Cage.





	The Next Night

**Author's Note:**

> Based on my current nightmares haunting me. Decided to get personal with my writing again. Sam's kind of my conduit for my intense emotions since I love him so much. Warning, this is uncomfortable, and fucked up.

It happened. It happened like it did every night… the nightmares.

After the Cage Sam’s sleep was never the same.

How could it be?

For awhile his head liked to be on a cycle.

Sometimes hot dreams, sometimes cold, sometimes ripping and tearing of flesh, sometimes beating, but now it was back to what he most hated.

Lying in black, immobile, nothing around him but his own helplessness and vulnerability, captured in the emptiness that surrounded him. Naked.

Then the hands started in on him. It started as just one hand, one hand he recognized: Lucifer’s. It was gentle with him, trailing over his body, feeling his torso, caressing, stroking, making him hot, pressure filling his pelvis, a whine building in his throat.

The hand twisted his nipple, pulling at it.

Another hand joined.

Still Lucifer.

Caressing his throat now, gentle, tilting his head back, touch so light pleasure burned down into his nerves and his mouth dropped open in a moan. Fire lit a path through him, down in between his legs, and he bucked his hips upwards, but the hands didn’t touch him there.

Sam wanted to touch himself, but he couldn’t move.

A tear fell at the betrayal from his own body, from himself, from the fact that he wanted to masturbate to his own violation.

More hands joined, ones he couldn’t identify, and sometimes they were Lucifer’s. Always gentle, always touching him just right. They touched everywhere, perfectly stroking his bare flesh, his heated skin, his nerves singing as liquid fire poured through every cell in his body, all of him alight with ecstasy.

His legs were tended to, his hips, his arms, his face, his neck, his torso, even his ears, and lips, and there were fingers for him to suck on when moaning and crying out wasn’t enough, and there were lovely, lovely hands at his perineum, and even nicer ones, ones that frightened and excited him with their thickness were delving into him, and more hands were on his balls and cock, squeezing, pumping, stroking, doing all they could to know him. All of Sam was getting touched, as they pleasured and he screamed around the fingers in his mouth.

Sam was consumed by violation.

And his body was alight with lust.

Tears trailed down his face.

It seemed a long time before he woke up from the nightmare.

And it came to him again the next night.


End file.
